Hazed and Confused
by LemonSmoothie
Summary: Demyx discovers the sadistic side of Organization XIII just a little too late.
1. Interview with the Demon

"Hazed and Confused"

Disclaimer: All characters from the Kingdom Hearts series are © SquareEnix.

"_Edym! Edym!" _

_Edym glanced at his older brother. "What, Ansley?" _

"_Will you please pay attention to your physics lesson?" _

"_But it's sooooo boring!" _

_Ansley shoved his wire-rimmed glasses back onto his nose "One more problem and we're done for today. A man weighing one hundred and fifty pounds goes up and down a flight of stairs four times. If his vertical displacement is sixty feet, how much work is he doing in foot-pounds?" _

"_Why doesn't this nutcase take the elevator like normal people?" _

_Wrong answer. Ansley sighed. "You can't shirk work forever. Heaven forbid something should happen to our parents." _

"_But you can just take care of me." Edym poked his older brother playfully. _

"_But what if something happens to me?" _

"_We'll worry about that tomorrow." Edym yawned. "I'm sleepy." _

"_I can't believe you got that ridiculous haircut." _

"_It is not ridiculous." _

"_You look like David Bowie on a bad hair day. Though he's having a bad hair life." _

"_He is not!" _

"_You don't see me going out in public like that." _

"_Of course you wouldn't, Ansley. Only Daddy-approved haircuts for you. You would never dream of doing anything to upset Daddy. I keep waiting for the day you snap and get a tattoo or something. Or cuss someone out." _

"_Oh, gracious, no! How uncivilized." _

_Edym threw a pillow at him. "I've had it up to here with civilized." _

_Ansley replaced the pillow. "And turn down your radio! The neighbors are starting to complain!" _

"_They didn't complain when you blasted that Beethoven!" _

"_I'd hardly compare a master like Ludwig von Beethoven to REM!" _

"_You're too stuffy."_

"_If appreciating the finer things makes me stuffy, then stuffy be I. Good night, Edym." _

"_Good night, Ansley." _

That was the last time he saw Ansley.

XXX

"Demyx! Demyx!"

Demyx sat straight up. "Huh?" He glanced at his surroundings. He was in an office, seated in an unergonomic chair. He must have dozed off.

"That's your new name, is it not?" A man seated behind the white desk asked. He was wearing a black cloak, and had long blue hair. His expression was an odd mix of scrutiny and utter boredom.

"Yeah," Demyx replied hesitantly. "It's what that white-haired dude called me."

"That 'white-haired dude' is our Superior, and your potential boss. Show some respect."

"Sorry."

The door swung open. "Saïx!" A tall, thin man with a shock of bright red hair burst in. "There's been an incident in the kitchen involving Xaldin's hair and an open flame."

Saïx sighed. "Axel, I would think you of all people would know where the fire extinguisher is."

"Yes, but it's empty!"

"Then get Vexen."

"He's out right now."

Saix's yellow eyes seemed to glow. "You do realize the high fire insurance premiums are your fault! Now get out! I'm not through with this interview!"

Axel backed out. "I just wanted it on the record that this is not my fault." He slammed the door.

Saïx rubbed his temples wearily. "Now where was I? Oh yes. What qualifications do you have?"

"Qualifications?"

"What sets you apart from other applicants?"

"I got an eight hundred on my SATs."

"Really?" A look of surprise rippled across Saïx's face. "Math or verbal?"

Demyx blushed. "Eight hundred total."

Saïx scribbled something on a notepad. "Do you have any weapon skills?"

"No. Not really."

"Do you know any martial arts?"

"Uh uh."

"So you can't fight at all?"

"I never had to learn to fight."

"Do you know any magic?"

"Magic? Like parlor tricks?"

"No. Magic spells."

"Not a thing."

"What would you contribute to this Organization?"

"I graduated seventh in my high school class." _He could just hear his father say Yes, you graduated seventh, but did you fail to notice that the number in your graduating class was also seven? In other words…dead last!_

"Hmm. Keep going."

"I can play the shamisen."

The reply was caustic. "Great. You on the shamisen. Zexion on the piano, and Lexaeus on violin. Kingdom Hearts help us."

_Okay, maybe he's not a music lover. _"Um…I don't eat much?"

"Your food and lodging is covered, provided you fulfill your duties."

"Sweet."

"Now, the explanation Xemnas gave you may be a little confusing. This is normal. A person had to give in to darkness for the Heartless to be attracted to them. You have lost your heart, and exist only as a body and soul. Now, how did a squeaky clean little twerp like you enough darkness to be swallowed?"

"Darkness?" Demyx asked. "I don't know. Or maybe I do."

"Would you like to talk about it?"

"I don't know."

"Whatever you say here does not leave this room."

"You promise?"

"I believe in confidentiality."

"All right. You see, my big brother Ansley was Mister Perfect. He was so smart. And his clothes. You couldn't find a single wrinkle in them! Even if you used a microscope! He never raised his voice. I'm pretty sure even his thoughts were pure. I've never even heard him curse! I lived with him for my entire life and he never said a bad word! I loved him to pieces, but sometimes I hated him at the same time. And then Obadiah happened."

"Who's Obadiah?"

"You see, my parents were loaded. We lived in this really classy neighborhood. But then Obadiah's family moved in. They won the lottery, and my father said they didn't deserve that money. My mother referred to them as…what did she call them? Novice rich?"

"Don't you mean _nouveau riche_?"

"Yeah, that was it. Ansley and I were forbidden to go near their house. One day, Ansley and I were playing. And Obadiah came out of nowhere. He tried to hit me, but Ansley got in the way. And then… I saw Ansley's glasses broken on the ground. I couldn't move, I couldn't scream. All I could do was watch while Obadiah beat the snot out of my brother. Finally my father came and wrestled Obadiah off. The doctors said Ansley was lucky to be alive. I didn't know who to hate. Obadiah, for beating Ansley up. Ansley, for being so darn selfless. Or myself, for being such a coward." Demyx sniffled. "Anyway, Obadiah got in trouble but as my dad used to say, you can get away with anything if you're rich. But we didn't see Obadiah for a while. Ansley's scars healed. We forgot about him for a while. Then I turned fourteen and got a learner's permit. I convinced Ansley to take me for driving lessons. Ansley was always a little shaky about getting behind the wheel. I think his girlfriend got killed in a car wreck, but anyway. But we were in an empty parking lot. And guess who pulled up to us in a custom Continental?"

"Obadiah?" Saïx asked, sounding bored.

"Yup. And let me tell you, the guy was drunk. I didn't even know how he could talk. Obadiah challenged me to a drag race. Ansley told me not to, but I didn't care. I accepted, but I wanted to show him up. I said 'Let's go all the way to Dead Man's Curve.'"

"Like in the Jan and Dean song?"

"Oh, the curve in that had nothing on this one. This Dead Man's Curve was almost perpendicular. You had to time it perfectly just to keep from slamming into the concrete. I had no intention of trying."

"_Edym, this is insane. Let's just go home." Ansley begged. "You're going to get us both killed!" _

"_Shut up!" Edym slapped Ansley's left cheek. The smack was loud._

_Ansley whimpered and fell silent. _

"I had slapped him. I hit Ansley. And it felt good! I feel so rotten for feeling like that, but I couldn't stop myself. We started racing, and I let Obadiah take the lead, driving just fast enough to watch him. I slowed down before we reached Dead Man's Curve. Obadiah didn't. He never knew what hit him. I'm pretty sure he died instantly. I let Ansley take the driver's seat and he took me home. And Ansley was crying! Crying over Obadiah!"

"Let me get this straight, Demyx." Saïx folded his hands on the desk and leaned closer. "You risked your brother's life, and the lives of innocent bystanders. You caused thousands of dollars in property damage. You took advantage of a kid – who probably couldn't find his rear with a map even sober – too drunk to make rational decisions. All because you couldn't control your adrenaline level?"

Demyx's cheeks were flushed. "…Yes."

"Disgraceful."

"I feel bad enough as it is."

"You should. But nevertheless, you are chosen."

"So I'm in?"

"You have no magical or physical talents, you're dumb as a doorknob, and I hate everything about you," said Saïx. "But we have an open admittance policy on humanoid Nobodies that I keep forgetting to strike from our charter. So you're in. What was your original name?"

"Edym. Edym Fairmont."

"Edym…sounds almost biblical."

"Yeah, well, I hated it."

Saïx shoved a piece of parchment toward him. "All you have to do is sign."

Demyx looked at the bottom of the contract. It read:

_Given Name: Edym_

_Assumed Name: Demyx_

_Rank: IX_

_Element: Water_

_Weapon:_

_Signature:_

"Water?" He asked.

"Yes. Axel setting everything on fire is getting old. Therefore, whenever he goes on the rampage, you can follow him and extinguish the flames."

"But how can I do that?"

"We'll figure something out."

"I need a weapon?"

"Yes."

"But I can't fight. I've never handled a gun or anything."

"You at least need something to defend yourself with. Like I said, we'll think of something. Now, do you accept the commission? You don't have to. You can walk out the door."

"But where else can I go?" Demyx asked. "My world's gone. And my family's probably gone with it. Give me a pen. I'll sign it."

Saïx opened a desk drawer and pulled out a small plastic packet. He ripped it open and revealed a needle. Before Demyx could protest, Saïx jabbed the needle into his palm.

"Ouch!" Blood dripped onto the contract. Demyx watched the blood land on the paper. As if guided by magic, the blood maneuvered itself into a thin line on the "signature" space. It spelled out his name.

"There," Saïx said. "You owe your soul to the Organization now."

Axel came back in. "The fire's under control. Xaldin threw baking soda on it."

Saïx arose from behind the desk. "Axel, I present the new Number Nine."

Demyx waved. "Hi. Do you have any advice for me?"

"Sure." Axel leaned closer and whispered. "Cover your ass."

To Be Continued


	2. The Making of a Nobody

_Thwack! _

Demyx winced. "Thank you, sir. May I have another?"

One of his new coworkers – he hadn't quite gotten all the names yet – whacked him across the behind with a wooden paddle. For perhaps the twentieth time in a row.

"Thank you, sir. May I have another?" Demyx said.

Another whack. The others laughed – nasty, cocky laughs that seemed to echo off the walls.

"That's enough," said Xemnas, the Superior. "Xaldin found another one. Saïx, you're on interview duty again."

Saïx saluted. "Yes, Xemnas."

"Kiss..." A member wearing an eyepatch coughed into his fist. "Butt."

"For the love of Nomura, Xemnas," A member with long ginger hair said. "Can we please recruit somebody whose IQ exceeds the room temperature?"

Axel scrunched up his face. "What are you talking about, Vexen? It's ten below in here."

"Precisely," Vexen said. "Enjoy having someone dumber than you in the ranks, Axel. I miss Kinax already."

"Who's Kinax?" Demyx asked.

Nine stony faces greeted him.

"Never mind," Demyx said. He got up. "Oooh. My butt hurts."

"Aveluxe will give you the tour," Xemnas said. "The rest of us will report to the kitchen for dinner. Dismissed."

Everyone except Aveluxe left.

"How are you feeling?" Aveluxe asked.

"Are you the only girl here?" Demyx asked. "You _are _a girl, right?"

Aveluxe sighed. "Do we have to go through this with _every _new recruit? Kinax called me 'ma'am'! And Axel had the nerve to say 'You shouldn't have to follow the dress code. If you want to show more cleavage, you should be allowed to. I encourage that.'"

"Why did everyone get so edgy about Kinax? Who was he? I'm still curious."

"He's our former Number Nine. He killed himself. Needless to say, we're trying to phase out his memory."

"Oh. So where are you from?"

Aveluxe glared angrily. "What business is that of yours?! Don't ask that question here. Everyone's got an unhappy past."

"Sorry. Say, when do we eat?"

"Me? I'll probably heat up a can of soup in my room after I show you around. You? Not until Dr. Vexen examines you and pronounces you stable."

"And why can't he examine me now so I can eat dinner? I'm starving."

"Because Vexen is hungry."

"Why can't I eat?"

"We don't take chances since one of our prospies pulled a Mama Cass and choked on a Black Pretzel. So, shall we go?"

"How big is this castle?"

"Too flipping big. I'm only going to show you a small part. I want you to stay at least five steps away from me at all times." She walked out, Demyx counting steps behind her. "Now, all the rooms have names. But you only need to learn the important ones."

"The rooms have names?"

"Yeah. Altar of Naught, Proof of Existence, Causeway of Existentialism, and so on. Xemnas likes to make mundane things sound important. Our boots are called 'LPCs', or Leather Personnel Carriers. I should also remind you of our two special code phrases. 'Dood, everybody run' means Saïx is about to go berserk."

"Um, that's not really a code phrase."

Aveluxe rolled her eyes. "It's code for 'Get out of here fast, or you're gonna die.' The other is BOHICA, which stands for 'Bend Over, Here It Comes Again.' It means Xemnas is on the warpath."

"OK."

"There are other Nobodies living in this castle. Except they don't retain human form." Aveluxe pointed to a white shapeless _thing _with spindly limbs and zipper teeth. "That's a Dusk. It's the most common form of the generic Nobody. They were the average, everyday Joes."

"Were?"

"Yeah. There are different varieties of generics. And sometimes their variety reflects the person's occupation. All generics will obey you, though you'll be assigned one class to assist on missions."

"They'll obey me?"

"Yes. For some reason, they recognize humanoid Nobodies as their leaders."

Some more Dusks came into the hall.

Demyx looked right at them. "Square dance!"

The Dusks looked at each other, as if in confusion. Then they paired off, arranged themselves into a square formation and began to dance.

Aveluxe looked horrified. "They're tortured souls! Can't you show them a modicum of respect?! Make them stop!"

Demyx sighed. "OK, stop." The Dusks did so.

Several other generic Nobodies milled in.

Aveluxe pointed to a group of Nobodies that resembled taller, pink versions of the Dusks. "The Dancers. They were the artisans and dreamers."

"What are these?" Demyx pointed to white Nobodies with sharp edges.

"The Assassins. Watch out. They tend to blow themselves up with little warning."

"Can't you just call them 'kamikazes', then?"

"We did, but that led to too much confusion on Pub Night."

"Oh. How about these big ones with the hammers?"

"Those are the Berserkers. Murderers and religious fanatics. The Snipers were soldiers and seafarers, people were generally rough around the edges. The Dragoons were protectors: firemen, police officers, bodyguards."

"Um, I'm confused."

"About what?" Aveluxe asked.

"I'm Number Nine, but there were ten of us in that meeting room. Is there a Number Zero or something?"

"No."

"Then…"

"I'm not a ranked member. I have no number, and no elemental affinity. I'm the Nobody Relations Specialist."

"What?"

"I settle disputes, I take the minutes at meetings. I'm a glorified secretary, but 'Nobody Relations Specialist' looks better on the resume."

"Why don't you have a number?"

"What does it matter to you? All that matters is I'm barely ranked above these generics and I have to obey you."

"Anything? That's great. Cause my feet are really sore and I could use a foot massage."

Aveluxe moaned. "Not now."

"So later?"

Aveluxe pulled out a walkie-talkie. "Xemnas, our new Number Nine is demanding a foot massage. Tell him he's crazy."

Xemnas's voice came over the walkie-talkie. "Number Nine, you're crazy…if you think you're getting a massage before me. See me in my office after dinner, Aveluxe."

Aveluxe turned off the walkie-talkie. "I hate you. I'm taking you straight to Vexen's lab and you're going to wait quietly until your exam. Got that?"

"Yes. Sorry."

XXX

"Did you hear about the new prospie?" Xigbar asked Zexion. "He's a _lawyer_."

Zexion looked amazed. "A lawyer? The odds of a Nobody retaining human form are generally low. But the odds of a lawyer having a heart to lose to become a Nobody, and then retaining human form. The odds against that are astronomical!"

XXX

Meanwhile, Vexen arrived in his office.

Vexen flashed his penlight in Demyx's eyes. "Pupils, equal, round, and reactive to light."

"Can you ask me about where I'm from and stuff?"

"What?!"

"Because I liked it when my doctor at home made small talk," Demyx said.

"OK. What trash can did Xemnas dig you out from under?"

"Oh. I'm from California."

"Which one?"

"There's more than one?"

Vexen shrugged. "Pluralistic cosmos. Which world are you from?"

"World?"

"Never mind."

Demyx shifted uncomfortably. "What's the story with everyone else?"

"I despise gossip, but I'll make one exception. Avoid Axel at all costs."

"Hmm?"

"We're all…morally bankrupt. But Axel…I don't know. He always seems like he's putting on an act. I don't trust him, and neither should you."

"Oh, I'm sure Axel's nice beneath it all."

"No, underneath it all, he's pure evil."

"Some people have a hard outer shell, but everyone has a creamy center inside. That's what my brother Ansley always said."

"There are plenty of people here in this particular castle who are hard on the outside and hard on the inside."

"So they have more of a nutty center?"

"Newbie, people aren't chocolates. You know what they are mostly? Bastards. Bastard-coated bastards with bastard filling."

Demyx playfully poked Vexen's chest. "I'm touching your creamy center."

Vexen's face clouded over. "First, never touch me again or I'll give you frostbite so fast that your head will still be spinning when Saïx amputates your gangrenous hands. Secondly, having a conscience is not compatible with being a Nobody, or even a successful human. So I suggest you throw out what you've learned, lest you get eaten alive."

"So you care about me?"

"Not really. It'll just be too much work to brief a replacement. I mean, I suppose I could riff a list of things I care about as much as you joining this Organization." Vexen took a deep breath. "The Atkins diet. Michael Moore. The Republican National Convention. Kabbalah and all Kabbalah-related products. All the Simpsons, including but not limited to Ashlee, Jessica, Bart, Homer, Marge, Lisa, and Maggie. Trekkies, Ayn Rand novels, Battlestar Galatica, Firefly, the Virginia Tech shooting, human error, the Yankees payroll, all the red states, all the blue states, every edgy TV sitcom, every sport utility vehicle, every talk show host, everything on the planet! Everything, everything, everything, every-everything! Everything in the solar system, everything in the universe, everything that exists! Past, present, and future in all discovered and undiscovered dimensions! As well as some things that don't exist. Bigfoot, Christian Slater's career, the Cubs pennant hopes, the entire Nobody race – which brings us back to you. Oh, and Christopher Lee."

Demyx whimpered. "Christopher Lee is Saruman! How dare he!"

Vexen flipped through his notes. "Everything looks normal. If you feel any sort of dizziness or pain, call me. My emergency number's programmed into your communicator."

"What's all the equipment in the next room for?"

"That's my lab. I double as the medic and the head of research."

Demyx looked at a brightly lit console. He saw a large, red button. "Ooh, what does this button do?"

Vexen gasped. "No!"

Too late. Demyx's hand descended on the big red button.

An inhuman roar echoed from afar.

"Holy crap, Newbie," Vexen said, rubbing his temples. "What horrors have you wrought?"

To Be Continued...


End file.
